


Crescendo

by SLWalker



Series: Arch to the Sky [53]
Category: due South
Genre: Arch to the Sky, Chicago (1998), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>April 1998: Ray watches the bowling alley burn with Stella, and realizes how far he really is from okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crescendo

It wasn't that Vegas was hard, it was that Vegas was _easy_.

It was that numb feeling, that cut-off feeling, where you were breathing and you knew you were, so you did what you had to do 'cause you just had to, and Ray was an expert at doing that. He'd been doing that his whole life. The breathing thing. The doing thing. 'Cause someone had to, and that someone was him, 'cause his old man sure couldn't.

It was that numb feeling, like you had part of you cut off, and there wasn't any _time_ for grief or fear, just the flurry and rush, dizzying and swift. Every minute could have been his last, and Ray didn't even notice, 'cause he was too busy just breathing and doing, 'cause someone had to, and no one else could be the Bookman now that the Bookman was dead.

It was that numb feeling until it wasn't. And Vegas stopped being easy, but it was far, far too late for him then. That was when the fear crept in, in those moments where he was just falling asleep or just waking up. That was when the nightmares started, of all the things he'd done on autopilot and all the things he'd be called to do, and the worst ones... the worst ones were Chicago, and his family, and his home and Benny. Those were the ones that woke him up the fastest, flying to protect something he wasn't even allowed to miss.

"What were we thinking?" he asked, as he watched the smoke curl up, the heat of the day pounding down on his head and shoulders, wrapped around his skin like a hot, wet blanket.

Stella pushed her bangs back, then crossed her arms again, eyebrows drawn. She went to answer, then stopped herself and shook her head.

Ray didn't ask again, just rubbed his palm down his face.

It was that numb feeling. Like the first time his old man graduated from flat-handed slaps to fists and shoes, and he was so fucking beat that he didn't even cry when he was safe to do so again. Like when Ange served him papers. Like when Benny fell off that train. Like when he got pulled to take over for the Bookman. Like when he realized he wouldn't get out alive, with feds who hated him on one side and mobsters who would kill him on the other.

It was that numb feeling until it wasn't, and then it was just ache, constant; crescendo, decrescendo, fade.

There was only one moment where he felt okay, felt right, felt like he was doing what he was supposed to do, and it was looking at Muldoon, aiming for Benny, and it was motion and adrenaline and fierce and it was love, and Ray felt that shining moment like maybe, just maybe, he could do something _good_ again.

And so, he did.

Like maybe saving something good could buy back his soul, like maybe he could look in a mirror again, like maybe he could make up for leaving and not being there to pick Fraser up so long ago, like maybe he wouldn't have to wake up in a cold sweat anymore. Like maybe, just maybe, he could be Ray Vecchio again, at his best, and if he went out in the process... fuck, yeah, he could think of worse.

It didn't last.

It was that numb feeling, that cut-off feeling, where you were breathing and you knew you were, so you did what you had to do 'cause you just had to, and Ray was an expert at doing that. He'd been doing that his whole life. The breathing thing. The doing thing. 'Cause someone had to, and that someone was him.

"I missed dreaming," Stella finally said, distant. And in that moment, she wasn't high-powered attorney Stella, she wasn't classy and smooth Stella, she was something else, something she'd never shown Ray before now. "I thought maybe, just maybe, this was crazy enough to work."

"Yeah," Ray said, softly. It was funny, in a way, 'cause it was right then that he knew her better than he'd ever known her, loved her more than he'd ever loved her, and it was right then that he knew they'd never make it.

She must have known it, too. She reached over and took his hand, a firm grip, and he squeezed back, and they watched the fire department try to put out the flames together.

It was that numb feeling until it wasn't, and then it was just ache.

Crescendo, decrescendo, fade.


End file.
